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Had missed her husband at that early hour,
And when she tried to rise, found she'd no power.
Yet as her body seemed to go, her mind
Felt, though in anguish still, strangely resigned;
And moving not, nor weeping, mute she lay,
Wasting in patient gravity away.
The nurse sometime before with gentle creep
Had drawn the curtains, hoping she might sleep:
But suddenly she asked, though not with fear,
"Brangin, what bustle's that I seem to hear?"
And the poor creature, who the news had heard,
Pretending to be busy, had just stirred
Something about the room, and answered not a word.
And when she tried to rise, found she'd no power.
Yet as her body seemed to go, her mind
Felt, though in anguish still, strangely resigned;
And moving not, nor weeping, mute she lay,
Wasting in patient gravity away.
The nurse sometime before with gentle creep
Had drawn the curtains, hoping she might sleep:
But suddenly she asked, though not with fear,
"Brangin, what bustle's that I seem to hear?"
And the poor creature, who the news had heard,
Pretending to be busy, had just stirred
Something about the room, and answered not a word.
"Who's there?" said that sweet voice, kindly and clear,
Which in its stronger days was joy to hear:—
Its weakness now almost deprived the squire
Of his new firmness, but approaching nigher,
Which in its stronger days was joy to hear:—
Its weakness now almost deprived the squire
Of his new firmness, but approaching nigher,
